Chapter 50: Morning Drizzle

It felt as if a mere wave of his opponent's hand could snuff out his precious life.

It was a sensation of utter despair, yet it did not leave him flustered. He did not close his eyes, nor did he allow the panic to spread within his heart; he remained perfectly still.

Suddenly, all the pressure vanished. His heart eased, but a palm was already within a foot of his chest. He lifted his left leg and leaned back, contorting his body at an impossibly sharp angle to strike at his opponent's elbow. His entire frame seemed as soft and fluid as if it had no bones, a feat that defied all logic.

This type of contortionism had a parallel in Shen Lian’s previous life, known as Yoga. It focused on the three energy channels and seven chakras—a cultivation system distinct from the eight extraordinary meridians.

Shen Lian’s spiritual sense observed a blue meridian running through the center of his opponent’s body, serving as the primary conduit for the energy within him, almost perfectly aligned with his spine.

The opponent’s movements were swift as lightning, yet under Shen Lian’s perception, they were slowed down many times over.

Unperturbed, Shen Lian gracefully evaded the exquisite kick and thrust his palm forward like a yaksha exploring the sea, landing it squarely on the chest of the man with the uneven eyebrows.

The man was sent tumbling violently, his back and buttocks slamming hard against the ground. The immense force of the blow shattered the blue energy flow within him. Bereft of that strange protective energy, the pain became unbearable, and he could not help but let out a groan.

Shen Lian chuckled at his disheveled state and remarked leisurely, "Your technique of 'falling goose landing on its backside' is quite exquisite."

The man with uneven eyebrows was consumed by shame and anger. Unable to gather the energy in his body, he strained to push himself up from the ground and said, "My skills are inferior to yours. Do with me as you will, but my master wishes to invite you for a drink at the Cuiyun Pavilion on South Lake tonight. Will you go?"

South Lake was the most decadent and extravagant place in the Imperial City, filled with singing, grand towers, and ornate pleasure boats. It was said that even the water of South Lake carried the scent of powder and perfume.

"Since someone has invited me, why should I refuse?" Shen Lian said with a faint smile.

The man had expected Shen Lian to be furious at his insolence and refuse, so he was surprised by the easy agreement. This man was terrifyingly strong; he should have followed his master’s orders and not provoked or tested him so recklessly. Even now, he could not fathom the depth of Shen Lian's power, yet the man had seen through his vital point at a single glance.

The man pulled an invitation from his robes. It carried a faint, delightful fragrance—the scent of Forget-Dust Incense.

Forget-Dust Incense was a precious spiritual item. When practitioners burned a stick of it during meditation, it helped settle the spirit and regulate internal energy, and over time, it nurtured the soul. This invitation must have been brought from a silent chamber where such incense was burned. Those who could afford such luxuries were not to be underestimated.

Years ago, the reason Ye Liuyun hunted down Bai Yufei was because Bai Yufei had stolen this very incense. Even with the accumulated wealth of the Famous Sword Villa, such incense was rare and seldom used.

Even the man with the uneven eyebrows, who was considered quite formidable in the martial arts world, was merely a servant, which only highlighted the power of his master.

Shen Lian felt no remorse for the small punishment he had dealt to this rude fellow.

The invitation read: "The moon is fair tonight; I invite you for a drink. Do not refuse, Master Shen." The signature was "Zhao Xiaoyu."

Looking at the elegant, delicate handwriting that exuded a sense of languid ease, Shen Lian could almost imagine a woman in the shimmering silver curtains, amidst curling wisps of incense, using a brow-pencil to ink these small characters onto the note.

Shen Lian had every reason to go. It wasn't because the sender might be a beautiful woman, but because since a person of such stature had taken notice of him, an intersection of their paths was inevitable. He might as well use this opportunity to see what she was about.

"I will go," he said thoughtfully.

The man nodded but did not leave.

"Is there something else?" Shen Lian asked.

"You are just going to let me go?" the man asked, bewildered.

"Did you hope I would be so angry that I would actually kill you?" Shen Lian smiled, lifting his hand slightly as if to strike again.

The man instinctively took a step back, then said, "Shouldn't you? I didn't intend to show mercy to you earlier."

"Are you not afraid of death?" Shen Lian asked suddenly.

"I am not," the man replied. He was not posturing; he truly did not harbor the fear of death in his heart.

Shen Lian lowered his hand and clasped it behind his back. "Since you are not afraid, why should I kill you? Go."

The man left the medical clinic, still filled with doubt.

Ever since Shen Lian had exerted his spiritual pressure on the man, he had noticed that while the man felt panic, he remained undisturbed and truly lacked the fear of death. The instinct to survive was innate to every living being, yet this man seemed to possess another instinct that had overridden the will to live. It was the first time he had encountered such a thing.

There were many sects in the world beyond the Qingxuan Sect, and some of the more powerful ones possessed mysterious arts that Shen Lian could not have anticipated. It seemed the Imperial City still held mysteries beyond his knowledge.

Shen Lian filled a basin with clear water and dropped a paper talisman into it. An image appeared in the water—the man with the uneven eyebrows, swaying as he moved. He was weaving through the city, seemingly trying to double back.

When the man had been struck by his technique earlier, Shen Lian had planted a trace of his spiritual sense on him, allowing him to track the man from afar using profound talisman arts. He was not yet an Earth Immortal, whose mere thought could encompass everything within a thousand miles, nor was he a Buddha or a Daoist Master with an eye that could see from the nine heavens to the nine netherworlds without omission.

This was his first time using such a technique, and it seemed to work well, though the image was slightly blurred and the quality was poor. Watching the scene in the basin, Shen Lian was reminded of his past life; this was truly a xianxia version of a tracking camera.

Ruoxi crouched nearby, watching with great interest. She was brighter than other children and did not curiously reach into the water, nor did she ask questions at this moment.

Suddenly, a mysterious woman veiled in silk appeared before the man. She waved a hand at him, and the image vanished. In the clear water, only the talisman paper remained, half-floating, half-sinking.

Shen Lian frowned. He seemed to hear a voice in his ear: "You will see me tonight, why the rush?"

The fact that the opponent had discovered his tracking method showed that she was indeed formidable.

***

That night, the moon was bright and the stars were sparse, casting a clear glow over everything. A full moon hung in the center of the lake, reflecting beautifully against the lanterns on the water.

Pleasure boats dotted the lake like stars in the sky, the sounds of singing and zithers drifting across the water, lively and bustling.

Fish in the lake occasionally broke the surface, their lips parting to snatch at floating crumbs of pastries.

A small skiff wove through the pleasure boats and eventually came to a stop at a certain spot.